


HOTEL OF SHADOW Hallucinations of Darkness

by SkipBack



Series: Hotel of Shadow [6]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:48:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkipBack/pseuds/SkipBack
Summary: MONSTER and DISCUSSION.This part takes place afterGuns Blazing,a part of the Hotel of Shadow AU.
Series: Hotel of Shadow [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1484603
Comments: 17
Kudos: 58





	1. MONSTER

Alastor crashed into the wooden floor of the Radio Tower. 

He pulled himself off the floor, leaning heavily onto the desk nearby and focusing on his breathing. That was possibly one of the worst entrances he'd ever done... he felt lucky no one had seen it. 

Things had gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours. Oh, he was sure he'd broken Charlie's trust. Lying to her and keeping secrets from her... oh nonono, that he didn't feel bad about. Alastor was a natural born liar, and could keep a secret like a tightly secure vault. But he'd pulled her arm off after she'd shown concern about his wellfare. 

That? 

That he did feel bad about. 

He gripped his head in his hands, shaking it vigorously. What the Hell was _wrong_ with him? First his heart restarted, then he started having lapses... now he was hallucinating? What was happening to him? Was the pain driving him inane? Or was it the stress of the unfamilarity of his current circumstances? 

Alastor slumped over the wood desk with his arms across the smooth surface, his eyelids drooping and his eyes felt like they were burning. His brain felt slow and a headache was marching through his skull. There was a lot of stress riding on his shoulders, and you really couldn't blame him for the exhaustion that fell over him like a heavy blanket. 

He pulled a hand down his face. Sure, he'd been tired before... but this was a new kind of exhaustion. It felt like it drained his strength; he could barely lift his head. His jaws cracked as a yawn split across his face. Okay... the nights he'd spent awake pondering his lapses were finally catching up to him. His entire body felt too heavy to move so he just stayed sprawled across his desk, falling asleep for the second time in an hour. 

... 

Alastor woke up who in Hell knew how many hours later. Three? Four? Five? Six? He was too groggy for his internal clock to work properly. With a groan, he forced himself off the desk and unsteadily got to his feet. After over eight decades of coasting through Hell without a care in the world, his career was finally crashing through the floor. His sanity was clearly hanging by a mere thread at this point, driving himself mad worrying about when the next lapse should occur. The Vox hallucination was only the first sign of his descent into madness, he was sure of it. 

And speaking of the Vox hallucination... 

Alastor went rigid as he noticed it standing in the room with him. It didn't disturb the air, and he couldn't feel its soul so he knew it was the hallucination. "You pulled off the arm of the princess herself?" it said, confidently striding up to him. "I don't think she'll see you the same way after this." 

Alastor tried to ignore it. It wasn't real. Just a figment of his own twisted mind, it had to be. But its words stung because he realized where it could only be speaking from: his own mind. These were his own thoughts. He turned away from the hallucination, trying to push it to the back of his mind. 

It wasn't real. 

It wasn't real. 

It wasn't real. 

"What happened to you?" the hallucination asked. "You used to be one of the most powerful demons out there! Now you're just pathetic, hiding like a coward. You're weak. Do you think they'll fear you the same way they used to be feared? I don't think so. You've been defeated! They probably know you've been knocked off the podium by now. You're nothing." 

He closed his eyes, imagining the sound of nothing but pouring rain. 

_It's not real._

_It's not real._

_It's not real._

"What happens now? Are you just going to stay here forever, locked away in the darkness to wallow in self pity? It would be better to hide than risk letting everyone have a shot at you. You're vulnerable! You're not as invincible as you think you are, doe-boy." 

He tried as hard as he could to block out the hallucination's words, he really did. But it was hard, considering they were his own words. He started trying to walk away from it. 

"You're a liar. You hide everything in layers of lies to keep the truth from surfacing. You hide your emotions under a smile to seem stronger than you are. Where did that get you, huh? Exploding at an hallucination and tearing my arm off." 

Alastor looked at the hallucination, feeling as though he'd been doused in ice cold water. 

It no longer took the form of Vox. 

It took on the form of Charlie, her arm still missing, blood dripping onto the dark wood floor. 

A lump formed in his throat. 

"Why did you take your pain out on me?" she continued, voice cracking. "I didn't deserve this! I gave you a chance, and you lied to me. You _lied_ about _everything_!" She was crying now, her tears streaming down her red cheeks like waterfalls, and guilt washed over him, settling in his stomach as though he'd eaten something rotten. "I used to trust you! But how can I now? How can I trust you after what you've done to me?" 

"Charlie..." he said weakly, starting forward. 

Fear flashed in her eyes and she stumbled back, shrinking away from him. "No... stay away from me! Please! Don't come any closer!" He froze, his heart aching. He viewed Charlie as a daughter in a way, though they weren't of blood. She sobbed, hugging herself with her remaining arm. "Vaggie was right about you. You're evil. You're... you're a _monster_." 

Alastor blinked, and the hallucination disappeared. He stood there in confusion, having forgotten halfway through that he was hallucinating... yet her words still rang in his head, real or not. 

_You're a monster._

He hadn't expected those three words to ever hurt him, but they did. They felt like they were burning his skin, and Alastor tried to push them to the back of his mind, but to no avail. 

_You're weak._

_You're pathetic._

_You're nothing._

_You're vulnerable._

_You're a liar._

_You're a monster._

Alastor gripped his head, gritting his teeth. He wasn't. He couldn't be. But they were all his thoughts, even of they were coming out of the mouths of hallucinations. They were speaking the truth. Yet he couldn't believe it... he didn't want to. 

_You're a monster._

_How can I trust you?_

His claws dug into his head, a muzzle stretching from his face. Redish tears fell from his eyes for the second time that day. 

_Vaggie was right about you._

_You're a monster._

... 

"Have you done it?" 

"Yes, sire. Everything is in order. ...now what?" 

"Now? Well... now all we have to do is wait."


	2. DISCUSSION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion with Vaggie, Charlie and Husk (featuring tiny goat demons).

"So.... what's so important that you had to drag me into this?" Husk asked, cocking a long eyebrow. 

"We need to talk about Alastor," Charlie said, her tone matter-of-fact. 

"Oh fuck, here we go..." Husk muttered to himself. Some part of him had known that this was going to be the topic. Why Niffty wasn't here as well was beyond him, but the little ladybug was probably cleaning somewhere... knowing her. 

He, Charlie and Vaggie (including Charlie's assistants Razzle and Dazzle) were in an area that was as secure and as private as the Happy Hotel could manage. It was a charming room (that he'd just affectionately dubbed the "conference room") with a coffee table and a couple couches, one of which the elderly cat was perched on. An interesting little plant sat on the center of the table, in a pot with at least seven eyes. Husk didn't know what room really this was, nor did he care to find out, but he wasn't exactly the happiest man in the world to notice a little radio sitting on the little dark wood table beside him. 

"It's been a week," Husk said. "If he's not back by now, he's not ever coming back." 

"That's not what I meant," Charlie said flatly. He could tell she was getting that a lot lately. "Although... y'know, if he does come back..." 

Vaggie gave a small sigh. She was standing on the Husk's side of the table, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. This was probably something Charlie was saying a lot in the past few days. "Hun... need I remind you that he ripped your arm off?" 

"He didn't mean it!" 

"Uh-huh. What about the fact he's been keeping things from you?" 

"He keeps things from everyone," Husk said. "He's not necessarily an open book, y'know." 

Vaggie looked at her girlfriend and held an arm out to Husk, the expression on her face clearly saying _You hear that? What have I been telling you?_

"...I guess," Charlie said. "But I don't think he's feeling well. I mean... I don't know, but there's something going on with him, even if he's not telling us what it is." She paused, thinking over her words before continuing. "We're technically his friends, even if you don't really think so." 

Husk snorted pointly. 

"Still... if he comes back or not, I think it's best we help him with whatever he's dealing with... even if we have to get it through his thick skull that we care about him," Charlie went on. 

"He's not exactly the greatest at sharing his feelings or problems, princess," Husk said. "Bastard took a whole year before he told us about his lapses or... whatever it is he's calling them." 

A pause in the conversation. Razzle and Dazzle, who had been looking from person to person as they spoke as if they were watching a tennis match, looked at each other. 

"Ooh?" Razzle asked Dazzle questioningly, his tone hushed. 

"Ahh," Dazzle replied, twisting one of his hoof-like hands in the "so-so" motion. 

They blinked at each other then shrugged, looking around the room as through not sure where to look. 

"...true," Charlie eventually said. "But I still think we should try to help him anyway. When he comes back." 

" _If_ he comes back," Husk quickly corrected. 

"If he comes back," Charlie amended. 

"I hope not," Vaggie growled to herself. Only Husk's sharp ears caught that. He decided not to bring any attention to that, to do her a favor. 

The couple were the first ones to leave the room, Razzle and Dazzle following close behind their heels. Husk stood up, his back cracking as he stretched. Husk turned his attention to the little radio beside him and noted that it was on though it made not a sound. He walked over to it, crouching down to be level with it. 

"Okay... listen up, kid. Don't know if you're listening or not, or how much of that you heard, but people give a flying fuck about you, alright? Get your shit together. Put it in a box and take it to the shit store, whatever. Come back to the hotel at any point, I don't care when or if you do at all, but Charlie seems to still trust you... after everything. She still gives a fuck and it's clear she's willing to do anything to get your head back in the game. 

"And for fuck's sake, learn how open the fuck up! It wouldn't kill you to share what the Hell's goin' on in that big head of yours from time to time. That's all I got to say to you.... if you happened to catch that, you tall red son of a bitch. I don't doubt you did, if this radio here is on." 

After a moment of silence, Husk heard a small pip of static from the radio as it turned off. 

_Alastor had heard._

... 

_END OF PART SIX_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALASTOR: I don't have a big head. 
> 
> DIB: You realize no one listens to that, right?


End file.
